


Glass

by monyaka



Series: Femslash February 2020 [22]
Category: Hello Charlotte (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Femslash February 2020, Friends to Lovers, Mild Sexual Content, Pining, like. very mild. like nothing Actually Happens it's just. mentioned, scarlett eyler is real and nothing can rid her of this realm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:40:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22868005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monyaka/pseuds/monyaka
Summary: Day 23 of 29 : GlassGlass isn't a liquid or a solid, according to some controversial studies.
Relationships: Charles Eyler/Q84
Series: Femslash February 2020 [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1619584
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Glass

**Author's Note:**

> sometimes i really do just cry over these two. this is the first time im writing q even though i Love her. i took some inspiration from my gf, who headcanons that part of q84's preoccupation with the colour white has to do with her feeling like emotions are like colour, and not really feeling safe to experience those. which is. btw. an amazing hc. also like can we just talk about how q84 was willing to become like literally contaminated by the oracle just so she could get revenge on charles' behalf? im crying every day. the last line alludes to that btw ;) look out 4 that ;)

Charles smiles like a real lady when Charlotte is invited in. She’s unceremonious about it, because she’s never been anything but. She’s sick of being a good girl and being punished anyway. Maybe this way, everyone will fear her. Everyone will loathe her. She’ll be in everyone’s thoughts.

“Hi, Lil,” she says as she breezes past, slipping out of pristine white sneakers and letting her bare feet slap against the wood. It’s impossibly clean here. She’s never once felt dirty when she’s been over at Charles’ place. Except when Anri’s there, she thinks.

Charles smiles warmly, yellow eyes locking with hers and making her feel suddenly overheated.

And when Charles smiles like  _ that _ .

She elects to ignore it, raids her cupboards for snacks. Anri makes sure Charles keeps it well-stocked. Privately, Charlotte’s glad that she’s the only one Charles has told about her little name problem.

_ I don’t rather like Charles, _ she’d said.  _ It’s just... Seth, Scarlett, Lilith, and who? Charles. I’d much prefer... Lily, or Laurel, or Lillian... _

And Charlotte remembers swinging her legs over the chair because it doesn’t matter if Charles can see up her skirt anyway, remarking,  _ If I changed my name, it would be to God. _

_ God Wiltshire? _ Charles isn’t laughing yet, but amusement brims over her tone.

_ Just _ God _ , shit-for-brains. God doesn’t need a last name. She’s _ God.

Charlotte likes that their names sound nice together, likes that a name like Charles doesn’t belong in a family of S’s and L’s—Shitheads and Losers. But she doesn’t really care, at the end of the day.

She especially doesn’t care about how Charles lights up when she calls her Lil.

Charles’ gaze follow her bare feet with some semblance of distaste, but she doesn’t say anything, following her to the kitchen instead, as if she’s scared her guest will steal something.

She’s done it before. It’s not a bad call.

“Say, Charlotte,” Charles begins. “Did you know glass, believed to be a solid, actually has some element of mystery to it? In ancient cathedrals in Europe, the glass windows grew thicker at the bottom and thinner at the top? It’s hypothesized that, over thousands of years, the glass has slowly moved with the pull of gravity, behaving like a liquid.” She has to know what Charlotte’s going to say, because she’s heard it a thousand times before, but she asks the question anyway. “Isn’t that fascinating, Miss Wiltshi—”

Effortlessly, Charles leans to the side, narrowly avoiding her friend’s bare foot aimed at her face. “Well, that settles that, then. I selected  _ white _ cheddar popcorn for your visit.”

“Thanks.” She grabs it from the top shelf, and she wonders if Charles is watching her shirt ride up. If she put it on the top shelf to watch her reach for it. It doesn’t make her feel as dirty as she should.

Over the period of time she’s known her, hasn’t she been sort of like glass? Draining to the bottom, becoming more liquid than solid? She can feel Charles’ eyes on her, and she  _ likes _ it.

It’s not a colour, is it?

She banishes the thought in favour of kneeing Charles in the crotch as she passes.

“I do hope you’re planning to share the bag of popcorn I purchased.”

“Nope.” She settles onto Charles’ couch, where a white tablecloth has been laid just for her. Charles is such a servant sometimes, she thinks with some form of distaste. Never standing up for herself. Letting herself be pushed around by her mother, her sister, her fucking roommate. And now Charlotte.

But she’s different from the rest of them,  _ better _ than the rest of them. She gives a shit about Charles. Or... does she?

“Is everything to your liking, my goddess?” purrs Charles, and suddenly Charlotte is rife with contamination. She can feel butterflies setting into her stomach, her heart pounding. She  _ refuses _ to let her cheeks flush, and she levels a glare that could raze cities upon her friend.

“Wow,” she remarks, deadpan, her leg shooting out once more, “that actually turned me on.”

Charles dodges the kick with a practised smile. “That was the intention.” 

Despite herself, she smiles, and the glass she’s built herself out of starts to crack. 

Charles is literally going to be the death of her.


End file.
